


Love me better.

by Lovelymoth



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Abuse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, As is Victor, Drugs, First Times, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I cried writing this, I promise a happy ending, M/M, Protection, Sad, Slow Burn, Victor has a lot of anxiety, Victor is bailiff, Victors pov, Yuuri is head of drug dealer, Yuuri is strong, this is long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-30 01:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10149887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovelymoth/pseuds/Lovelymoth
Summary: Victors life had been painfully uneventful. Burdened with anxiety and loneliness, he routinely goes to work, comes home to feed Makkachin then sleeps with a heavy heart.Though, one late evening, he is called into work, pulling him into a misunderstood mess involving drug dealers. The boss, however, looked nothing like Victor had expected.He was breathtaking.Victor is released back to his mundane routine, left to dwell on what happened. And much to Victors surprise, it was the most exciting night of his life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Thank you for taking interest in my first fanfiction for Yuri on Ice!
> 
> This fic has been inspired by Minatu and their Mafia works! Check them here:  
> https://twitter.com/minahomine
> 
> I've been planning this fic for a while and have all of the chapters planned out. I hope to update every week if you like it :)
> 
> This first chapter is long, but I wanted it to pull you into the alternate universe and make way for further plot. 
> 
> I often see fics about Yuuri's anxiety, and although I will write about it, I wanted to write about Victors anxiety and how terrible he is at handling it on his own. 
> 
> This story will contain graphic scenes which may be upsetting, but I will always put warnings before every chapter. 
> 
> Thank you again and I hope to receive feedback from you <3
> 
> (I'd also like to point out that I am autistic so I struggle to express certain things, I hope this fic isn't too cold or under explained, please let me know if you feel something is missing.)
> 
>  
> 
> *****  
> Chapter warnings  
> *****
> 
> This chapter contains certain scenes of non-sexual abuse that may be uncomfortable for some readers, please continue at own caution. Drugs, weapons and alcohol are mentioned throughout.

 

 

Lights flickered down the dimly lit road, car headlights catching reflections on the cats eyes. They looked like little stars, though they were ignored by the driver of the car. Tonight, Victor was reluctantly called into work. Victor worked in housing and let offices, also working closely with lawyers and bailiffs, his job was very perplexing and confusing. Despite Victors carefree charm and youthful beauty; which was often talk of the office, he was incredibly skilled at his job. In fact, he'd often only be interested in his work, much to his coworkers disappointment. He was never one to go out with work colleagues or, with anyone for that matter.

 

Pulling up to his regular parking spot, which now displayed his name since getting that promotion last week, he fumbled slightly before leaving to go into the tall building, surrounded by dystopian fencing. "Good evening, Clara." Victor beamed softly at the receptionist. She flushed slightly and waved playfully. "I will let the boss know you're here." Victor took a seat in the reception. He grew bored quickly, looking at the clock on the gaudy yellow wall, though It didn't take long for his boss to arrive. "Ah, Nikiforov, I'm glad you could make it in such short notice." Victor stood to shake his boss' hand. "I intend to keep my status as employee of the month, sir." He smiled making the other man laugh. 

 

"Victor, this situation is not one I wanted you of all people to deal with, but I have complete faith in you." The man handed out a leaflet, Victor gently grasped it and observed the writing. "This bar has been dealing with some strange underground 'materials' and haven't payed their rent in over 3 months, we now have to take action and send someone in personally, the drugs are not our concern though, all we desire is the rent." He said, making sure Victor understood. "The bar is only open after midnight so that is why I called you in so late." Victor nodded in understanding and smiled. "That's no Problem, sir, I will hand their notice personally." He smiled dimly. This was the only part of the job he loathed, walking into strangers houses and businesses to tell them they need to pay up or get out. In simple terms, it never went smoothly. The thought of going to, what could only be considered as a 'drug bar' sounded like his toughest challenge yet. 

 

"I have my complete faith in you, here are the documents you shall hand to them and make sure to keep out of trouble, call the police if needed." Victor gulped slightly, taking in the mans words.

 

_That wasn't very reassuring._

 

Taking the documents, he smiled and waved goodbye, fumbling for his car keys. Victor had an incredible way of masking his anxiety, though it was most definitely there inside him. Typing in the address to his satnav, he slowly began to drive to the location. 

 

 

\-----

 

 

Victors mind wondered as he drove. His anxiety built up in his chest and felt contracting. _What if I get into a fight?_ Victor asked himself, unable to imagine the humiliation at work the next day. The satnav cut Victors worry short by requesting to 'turn left at the end of the road.' Victor obeyed and according to the satnav the bar was on the same street. He scanned buildings, some looking rotten with neglect, others completely boarded up. But it filled victor with unnerving thoughts, these buildings definitely had people living in them. A little neon sign caught his eye, looking angelic amongst the debris and garbage that decorated the street. Victor pulled up outside the bar and made sure to hide the satnav in the glove compartment, it was a work item he could not do with being stolen. He took deep breathes and tried to relax his heart beat. Pushing his hair back to appear more presentable, he starts to exit the car. 

 

Victor walked towards the bar slowly, loud sounds and music audible. He gently pushed on the doors and the sickly scent of beer and sweat obscured Victors nose, making him heave slightly. He walked toward the counter, nerves buried inside him, facaded by a confident act. Many of the customers in the crowded bar were looking at him, most likely because of how professional he looked. "I'd like to speak to the owner of this establishment." Victor requested loudly, trying to be heard over the heavy music. The person behind the bar shrugged and walked to a back door, gesturing for him to follow. Victor swallowed hard and did as requested. 

 

There was a long dark corridor with a few doors scattered, at the end was a wooden frame with "boss" spray painted on the wall beside the entrance. The person in front of Victor swung the door carelessly open. 

 

"Boss, this pretty boy is here for ya" 

 

Victor shuddered at the unwarranted nickname and walked towards the man. Victor cleared his throat. "Are you Diedrich Madden?" he asked, hoping the answer was yes. "I am, and what do you want with me?" Victor swallowed and handed the man the documents. "I'm afraid we are out of warnings and will have no option but to repossess property due to failure of payment." Victor felt startled as the man laughed. "You know, all I needed was time, I have the money now." The man said, opening a drawer. Victor felt taken aback.

 

_This feels far too easy._

 

The man pulled out a check book and began to write, "it was £872 I owed, right?" The man asked. Victor nodded, not sure if this was reality or not. 

 

_Surely someone is going to jump out and hit me over the head?_

 

The boss smiled and handed him the check "that ‘ought to do it, I'm sorry for the delay, this business is my livelihood and I honestly struggled hard with payments, though business seems to be booming now." He smiled with his eyes closed. Victor felt bewildered, unsure. "W-wow, thank you." He decided to smile, taking the check and placing it inside his blazer pocket, he wasn't really sure how to feel. "Is that everything?" The man asked with a gentle undertone to his voice. "Y-yes, thank you very much for your time and cooperation, best regards to the business." Victor smiled before taking his leave, 

 

This was far too good to be true. 

 

Before leaving he decided to buy a drink at the bar, it seemed to be a family business. Upon further observation, he saw the customers laughing loudly and talking about their lives. Two particularly large men were laughing hard, playing pool. Victor couldn't believe his boss said this place dealt with drugs. He _really_ couldn't believe it. 

 

After a couple of whiskeys, Victor turned to watch the same large men play darts, he laughed loudly as one of them hit the wall next to the board, after the man claimed to be the 'best darts player in London'. The men caught eye of Victor and drunkenly asked if he'd like to join. Victor felt anxious, but their smiles were genuine, if not a little messy from the alcohol they had been drinking. He continued to sit, feeling that he wasn't too good at darts and didn't want to embarrass himself. Asking for another whiskey, he continued to watch the men. Victor would often drown his sorrows, though he could never put a finger on what his 'sorrows' were. There was something missing. But right now, he felt like he was drinking to have fun. 

 

Everything felt very civilised. 

 

Very comfortable. 

 

Bang. 

 

_Was that… Gunfire?_

 

**BANG!**

 

_No way._

 

"SHIT, SCATTER!”

 

 A loud voice obstructed from the back of the bar, within seconds the building was unorganised chaos, people falling over each other making way toward the back door. Victor felt his heart race, unsure what was happening. He heard gunfire again outside, a clear sign of what he had to do. Without hesitation, Victor began to run with the crowd, though his mind was heavy with alcohol, intoxicating his simplest of thoughts. He looked around with panic, trying to make sense of the situation. Though his foot caught something on the floor, his body falling over a bar stool, leading him to be face down on the floor in a matter of life altering seconds. The front doors of the bar were kicked open loudly and screaming could be heard. Victor stood but stumbled again, trying to make his way out, he crawled on the floor desperately. 

 

"That's him!" A voice shouted. Victor turned his head around, only to be punched hard in the stomach. He cried out as a group of large built, suited men surrounded him. "Wh-what have I done?" Victor asked, voice riddled with anxiety. "SHUT UP." A man punched him hard in the face, the hit was intense, making his face come into contact with the cold, sticky floor. He could already feel a bruise forming around his eye. Two of the men held his legs down, the pressure unbearable. 

 

_Oh my god my legs are going to break._

 

Victor reached up in some sort of attempt to stop the pressure, but a couple more men overpowered him, beating him to the ground. Victor couldn't prevent the tears pooling from his eyes. 

 

_What did I do?_

 

One final hit to his head with a baton, Victor yelped hard, distressed as his head dropped to the ground. His vision gave out on him, his hearing muffled. His body became unresponsive. He lay on the floor unconscious. 

 

 

\-----

 

Victor awoke to darkness, he felt fabric obstructing his eyes. He began to reach to remove it, though was stopped in his tracks by what felt like handcuffs, closed tightly around his wrists. Panic began to settle in as movement below him gave away that he was in a vehicle. Victor didn't know what to do, he feared to ask incase they would beat him again, he just sat silently, willing the tears away from his tired eyes. He tried to pretend to still be unconscious, but he heard a trigger, followed by a small pressure to his head. A clear indication that they knew he was awake. 

 

 

He felt the car pull up and come to a halt. The man beside him, poked him hard, shoving him so he'd get out of the car. Victor felt relieved that the gun was no longer pressed on his head. Another man grabbed his arm and began to drag him forward. Victor didn't know what to do. His body in shock, his legs only barely walking. 

 

_What is happening, what did I do?_

 

 He was terrified of what was going to come. His anxiety on overdrive, feeding him all sorts of horrific thoughts, making him feel sick. Soon, after being shoved around for a few moments, he felt warmth radiate his body. 

 

_We must be inside a building now._

 

He heard people follow closely behind as another door was heard opening. With a loud crash, Victor was thrown into a room, face first, making him cry out. The blindfold was yanked off roughly, causing unnecessary friction to his fully formed bruise. "You piece of shit, stealing the drugs from us and selling them at half the price." The man threw a punch across Victors face, he could taste blood on his lips. 

 

 _Selling drugs, what is happening?_  

 

Another punch was thrown into his stomach, making him cough loudly. He was grateful to see where the punches were coming from, but his body was unable to dodge any of the fists.

 

_This has to be a misunderstanding, right?_

 

"How does it feel to fuck with the biggest drug dealers in Europe?" The man said, throwing another punch. "Wait until the mafia hear about how you fucked us over." Another punch was aimed into his stomach. 

 

 _The mafia? Oh my god._  

 

Victor felt sick, he gulped hard, trying not to throw up. Panic in overdrive as he trembled, he felt the beginning of an anxiety attack rip through his chest. Breathing felt like broken glass was being dragged up and down his throat. He admittedly had anxiety attacks often, yet would try to pay them no mind, pretended they didn’t exist. But right now, he wished that he had. Had researched them more. Understood them more. So he could pull himself out of it.

 

_I’m definitely going to die tonight._

 

"The boss is ready to see him." Another voice was heard in the distance. Victor coughed hard and saw blood running down his once pristine white shirt. Tears warming his cheek. Victor was yanked up onto his feet, to only be blindfolded again. He was then dragged forward, out of the room and down some very long corridors. They seemed to spin and turn in unusual ways. At last, a final door was opened and he was thrown to the ground with a grunt. Victor didn't react, he started to feel used to being thrown around, though he couldn’t really feel much, only the numbness from his anxiety attack. 

 

"H-here he is, boss." The man said, a tremble very clear in his voice. Victor swore he could sense fear behind this mans voice. 

 

 _This boss must be terrifying if HE is scared._  

 

Victor panicked. He began to envision a giant seven foot man or some mutated person with five arms and a gigantic fist that could break every bone in his body in one swift punch. 

 

"That's not him." A young voice stated bluntly. Victor felt surprised. He could hear an accent behind his voice, Japanese perhaps? 

 

"What do you mean boss?" A voice was heard quietly. "This is not him. Do _not_ make me repeat myself." The voice was almost soothing to victor, despite the situation and how terrifying this man must be. It felt like his anxiety had disappeared for a moment. But only one moment. "B-but we went to the bar, broke the door down and grabbed him, look at his suit, it's got to be Diedrich!”. 

 

Victor felt his mind pause. 

 

_Diedrich, they must have thought I was him!_

 

"This is _not_ him, Diedrich was much older." The voice sounded angered. "I'm so sorry, boss, please forgive me, I have a wife and kids and..." There was a moment of silence before the mans voice broke it. 

 

"Just, get out of my sight before I kill you." The voice was rough with anger. But Victor could hear a shake to the voice, it wasn’t as confident as the guards were hearing. Victor felt his blindfold being yanked off roughly. It took him a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He searched for the owner of the voice. The man that had shaken the men in suits, making them fear their lives. The man that controlled them.

 

 _Oh my god._  

 

Draped over a large chair, almost like silk, was a young man. 

 

Black hair, soft like spun cotton. 

Skin, shimmering like fine sugar. 

Eyes, deep brown like the most indulgent chocolate. 

Lips, innocently pink, like a desert rose waiting to be picked. 

 

Even under these most unfortunate circumstances, this man was breathtakingly beautiful, by anyone's standards. Victor was taken aback. Confusion filled his body.

 

 _How could someone so gorgeous be the head of this drug company?_  

 

A watch glistened, against the mans skin. It looked like it could pay for Victors car loan ten fold. Though the main though that had puzzled Victors mind, was how there was sadness behind the mans sparkling eyes. It made Victors heart race, they felt human. Images of a five armed mutant quickly disappeared. Victor watched the man stand and walk towards him. Though quickly, before anyone could think, the man drew a pistol from a holster hidden under his blazer. It was swift and fast. 

 

Victors eyes widened as the gun was thrust roughly into his mouth, making him gag. "What were you doing there anyway? After some cheap drugs?" The accented voice spat out. In Victors peripheral vision, he could see the suited men backing away. He couldn't understand why. Why the suited men were cowering, could sense malice behind the mans voice. Even with the gun placed firmly in his mouth, all that victor could hear was pure, unmistakable sadness. 

 

The gun was removed roughly, making Victor gasp. "I-I'm a bailiff, I went to get the due rent." He explained, trying to level his words. "Check my inner blazer pocket, the cheque and documents are there." Victor spat out breathlessly, as the mans hands yanked the blazer, delving into the pocket. His sad eyes scanned the documents quickly, darting each word. ”Yeah, it's all here, guess you were there at the wrong time." The voice was quiet, like he was speaking to himself only. 

 

The young man quickly stood and walked to a guard. The guard was double his size in height and build and Victor swore there were visible droplets of sweat on his forehead, even in this dim light, they could be seen. The young man kicked him hard in the shin, causing the guard to yelp and fall to the ground. "How, could you fuck up this bad?" The Young man shouted. He pulled the once-in-Victors-mouth pistol out again and aimed it towards the guards head. A distressed cry was heard and victor felt his heart race. Fight or flight delved through his bones, he swore his heart was going to stop at any moment. Gunfire was heard, piercing the uncomfortable silence and victor forced his eyes shut. 

 

_D-did he just kill that man?!_

 

"I'm on my last tether with you, fuck up again and I won't hesitate to aim towards your forehead" The man snarled as the large man cried on the floor, a bullet inches away from his head. He walked away towards some more guards, Victor swore they were cowering in the corner. "You take this man back to where you found him and don't speak to me again for a week." He demanded, walking towards Victor. "My idiotic guards seem to have hindered your evening, though..." he paused. They made eye contact. Victors eyes widened and his heart sank. Pure sadness, innocently displayed in his eyes. They were glassy, almost with tears. 

 

_They couldn't possibly be tears after he made all those men shit theirselves, right?_

 

Eye contact was not broken, the man licked his lips with hesitation. "You have no idea how lucky you are to leave this building." The man said. It was laced with fear. Victor felt his heart tense up, like it was breaking. To the guards ears, it was nothing more than a 'you're lucky to leave alive' or 'you got out this time.' but Victor knew the true meaning behind the words. The words were thick with envy and jealousy, ripped apart with sadness. Victor knew that, from his words, this man desperately wanted to escape this place, no question. He could feel the mans anxiety, the anxiety that he too feels. It was unmistakable. It made sense to Victor, the guards must be incredibly stupid to not sense this. Sense how the young man must really feel, since it only took Victor one small glance into his eyes. The young man motioned some guards towards victor. They dragged him up, standing so they could drag him towards the long corridor. 

 

"Why don't you leave, then?" Victor asked. 

 

It was barely audible, but he knew it had travelled far enough to the mans ears. He wasn't sure what made him say it, unsure as to what repercussions would show their ugly face as a consequence. He was slowly dragged towards the corridor, roughly. His shoulders ached. Though he didn't break eye contact with the young man. The mans face was distraught, heartbroken and Victor could see those beautiful glassy eyes sink. 

 

_I may of touched a nerve there._

 

He thanked his lucky stars that he wasn't shot there and then. 

 

 

\-----

 

 

Victor was stood next to his car, wincing at the sun breaking the early sky. The guards were stood around him, removing his handcuffs and apologising, though Victor knew they didn't really care. Apologising purely because they wanted to live to see another day. They quickly jumped back into their corresponding vehicles and drove off loudly, exhausts ripping through the peaceful sound of morning. It made victor roll his eyes. 

 

_How can they think they are such hot shots when that tiny man made them piss theirselves like little babies._

 

Victor laughed to himself and crawled into his car. He honestly just wanted to get home and sleep. He fumbled with his seatbelt and pulled the satnav and his phone from the glove compartment. He checked his phone. No messages. Though, he wasn't really expecting any, since he had no particular relationships other than his dog. Though a message from his boss would of been nice, since he hadn't made contact with him all through the night. 

 

Wait. 

 

He pauses. 

 

"Fuck." He exclaims to no one in particular as he remembers his dog. His dog, Makkachin, was getting quite old and had developed bad separation anxiety. He set up the satnav and drove home as fast as he could without fearing a driving ticket. But honestly, he didn't give two shits about that. Only his dog and bed mattered right now. 

 

\-----

 

 

 

Victor only managed to get a couple of hours sleep before his alarm rang. Work. He slowly crawled out of bed and whinged at his aching shoulders and his once handcuffed wrists. Making his way towards the bathroom, he remembers the thorough beating he received last night. Though he did what he always did best. Bury it within himself, so no one could see, keep it to himself and let it burden him till he breaks.

 

He looked into the mirror and his eyes widened. Blood plastered to the side of his cheek, eyes puffy, one particularly bruised and bloodshot. His usually soft and perky lips, chapped and bloodied. Victor whined at his reflection. He always wanted to give off good first impressions, especially meeting new clients. Though he mischievously thought about how he could use this to get a pay rise from his boss, since it was his fault he wound up in this situation. 

 

He spun on his heels towards the shower and turned it on, holding his hand under it, waiting for the freezing water to warm up. Finally stepping under it, he began to wash away the evidence of last night. He winced as he washed his hair, feeling a lump and a painful bruise. 

 

_That must be when they knocked me out._

 

He grimaced to himself. After he was satisfied with cleaning himself, he turned off the water and dried himself slowly, noting that his wrists were a lot more sore than he though.  He began to dress himself slowly, a clean dress shirt clinging to his slightly damp body, form fit dress trousers loose around his calfs, tight around his thighs. He slung a clean black tie around his neck and groaned at the intricate work that was required from his painful wrists. "If only Makkachin was human." He said out loud, followed by a sarcastic laugh. Having another person around would be wonderful for situations like this. 

 

Victor stepped out of the bathroom and made his way towards his open plan living room/kitchen. Makkachin barked happily and ran towards him. "Hey, boy!" Victor smiled, knowing it was routinely time for his breakfast. He walked towards the kitchen and opened the fridge. He pulled out a rather expensive, specialist dog food and rummaged for a can opener in one of the drawers. Makkachin jumped up towards Victor eagerly, making him laugh. "Maybe it's good you're not human, you make me so happy." Victor beamed, hoping his dog would at least understand his admiration. He walked towards makkachin’s bowl and scraped the contents into it. He smiled as he ate quickly and happily. Victor stood and turned his kettle on, he could really do with some coffee. 

 

After his instant coffee was made, he sat on his too-large-for-one-person sofa and turned on the television. He made it a routine to check the weather channel ever since his terrible meeting with the mayor of his town last year, that ended up with him soaked through, including the all important documents and his body very much visible through his shirt. He tensed at his own secondhand embarrassment and flicked through until he could find the weather channel. It was a local news show, which was very low budget and made victor laugh a few times, though he was grateful that this small London Town was taken this seriously. Victor frowned as it showed diagrams of rain and storms. He rolled his eyes, making a note to take the train since it was usual for there to be ridiculous amounts of traffic on rainy days. 

 

As he finished his coffee, he began to feel lost in his thoughts, especially about last night. 

 

_That young man was so beautiful._

 

Victor was trying to piece some incorrigible thoughts as to what he was doing in that dump. Though another thought started to pique his interest, why were those gigantic men so scared of him? They looked like they could of snapped his arm like a twig. The young man was very authoritative to the guards, though Victor could see through it. He was undeniably scared and distressed. Victor just couldn't seem to get rid of this thought. 

 

And he couldn't get the man out of his head. 

 

Looking down at his phone, he checked the time. Shrugging the thoughts away he ran to his bedroom to fix his hair. He looked in the mirror again. 

 

_How can I go out looking like this?_

 

He wondered if his coworkers would treat him any differently. There wasn't much he could do for the bruises on his face at the moment. He grabbed his blazer and messenger bag, which he preferred a lot more to an average briefcase and took the umbrella next to it. After looking in the mirror, ignoring his face, he decided he looked presentable. 

 

He walked out of his room and saw Makkachin had finished eating. "Just in time, are you ready?" He asked rhetorically, knowing the dog wouldn't answer. He put a collar and lead around Makkachin's neck and smiled to himself. He left his large apartment and locked the door behind him. The apartments were situated outside, as apposed to a large building complex. He walked down the metal stairs, to the ground floor and headed towards another apartment. He knocked eagerly, waiting for answer. The door swung open and victor smiled at the friendly face. 

 

"Hey, Chris!" He smiled. "Victor, what the fuck happened to you?" Chris asked, eyes wide. "Oh, I got super pissed last night and fell over." Victor lied behind a laugh. "Figures." Chris said sarcastically. He bent down and patted Makkachin on the head. "Are you ready for a fun filled day?" Chris asked the dog. Chris is Victors best friend whom has lived in the complex before Victor, they both trusted each other greatly. Chris is a freelance author and worked from home, making him the perfect man to take care of Makkachin when Victor was working. 

 

Chris hugged Victor with one arm as he took Makkachin's lead. He leaned in close to whisper into his ear. "After work later, you want to tell me what really happened last night?" Chris gave Victor a sad smile. 

 

_Of course Chris would see straight through my lie._

 

He gave his shoulder a squeeze and victor smiled. "Okay, I can order take out too, I need something seriously greasy after the night I had." They both laughed together, Chris patting his back. Victor honestly did not care about his strict diet and exercise routine right now, his body was screaming for some indulgence. Victor said his goodbyes to Makkachin and Chris, smiling to himself. He always felt better talking to his best friend. 

 

\-----

 

 

 

The train was delayed by twenty minutes. And the weather was only getting worse as dark storm clouds sought over the sky. Victor managed to get shelter under a sign post since his umbrella already gave way in the wind. His shoes and back were soaked through. 

 

_I can't wait till I'm eating pizza with Chris tonight._

 

He had a feeling today was going to be slow. He let out a relieved sigh as the train approached the platform. He thanked no one in particular, that he left for work early today. 

 

The train journey left much to be desired. Victor was sandwiched between a very tall, sweaty man and an old lady that kept asking where her cat was. Victor was known to be very patient, even himself knew it. It was one of his best qualities after all. Even if someone were to sit and cry in his office for ten hours straight, he wouldn't even think about asking them to leave. But today, his patience was wearing thin. Especially when a random stranger would glance up at his face, making him even more aware of the large bruises. And to make matters worse, every time the train jolted, he felt strain on his aching limbs. 

 

Soon, his train came to a pause, stopping at his destination. He ran through the rain, battling with his blazer over his head against the heavy winds and sighed with relief as he stepped through his work places doors. Just in time. He smiled to himself. He waved at Clara, but didn't bother to look at her. He didn't want her to question his bruises. He stepped into the elevator and pressed for the fourth floor. 

 

_Right, I need to hand the documents and this cheque to the boss._

 

The elevator dinged open and victor walked out towards the very familiar corridors. As he approached his boss' office, he looked into every reflective surface possible to check his appearance. He was certainly feeling self conscious. 

 

He knocked slowly on the door, waiting for a reply. A quick 'come in' was heard. Victor stepped into the office and dug out the documents from his messenger bag. "Diedrich ended up paying the standing debt and told me he will have no problem paying the rest of the rent again." He explained, smiling at his own self accomplishment. "Victor, what happened to your face?" The man said sternly. Victors small amount of pride quickly dissipated into dust. "Ah, a drunk man punched me as I was leaving." He lied, laughing nervously through clenched teeth. "Ok, well good work, Victor." The boss said, looking towards his computer. "Is that everything?" The man asked, making Victor feel particularly small. "No, sir, I shall take my leave." Victor walked out of the office and sighed. 

 

 _He is so damn unpredictable sometimes._ He thought, unsure as to what mood he'd be in within an hour. 

 

 

\-----

 

A few hours dragged slowly as Victor worked in his office. He had half a pile of documents to get through, the other, neatly sorted and stored away. As he read through the documents in his hand, his mind began to wander. Something heavy and burdening sat upon his shoulders. 

 

 _Last night was one of the most exciting nights of my life._ Victor thought with a heavy heart. He was a very lonely person, Chris and his dog being the only form of company. He did have work friends, but never had any desire to spend time with them outside of work, especially a lot of the women. They only seemed to see his image, rather than who he was. He had no family to turn to, and the only thing that kept him moving throughout the years, were streams of difficult relationships, where he tried too hard, only to be kicked in the teeth. 

 

Victor sighed hard and rested his chin on his hand, flicking through the mundane document. _Why couldn't I of met that cute boy in a cafe or park?_ He laughed with satire, thinking about the man from last night. He skimmed through the rest of the document and began to feel unbearably tired. 

 

_I was right, today is going to be very long._

 

 

\-----

 

 

6:30 was displayed on the clock on his computer. He smiled to himself and began to tidy his work space, ready for when he was next in. He quickly grabbed his phone from his blazer pocket and text Chris, asking what he felt like eating. He felt very relieved when he replied with 'pizza' and a few winking faces, much to Chris' charm. He grabbed his messenger bag and walked towards the elevators, keeping his head down to make sure the girls in the cubicles wouldn't see him. They always seemed to be full of questions. 

 

Victor clocked out of the building and began to walk to his favourite pizzeria. He felt beyond grateful that this evening was warm and a lot less wet compared to this morning. He felt the warmth of the small building impact quickly, the open ovens at the back of the counter gave out a suffocating glow. Victor ordered his and Chris' favourite pizza and payed the man behind the counter. He sat in the waiting area and stared at the bright orange wall parallel to him. 

 

 _Maybe, I can marry Chris, just so I won't be alone anymore._ He laughed to himself, knowing that they were far too much of friends to be anything more. A voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he stood to get the pizzas from the man. 

 

 

\-----

 

 

He felt blessed as he walked into his train, which was just in time, to find it was almost completely empty. He sighed with content, knowing his journey would be simple and quick. Victor could smell the pizzas in his hand and couldn't wait to get back to Chris' apartment. He was especially looking forward to getting his thoughts off of his chest. He'd usually tell Chris everything, and Chris would do the same. They had a great bond, which both of them agreed they felt like brothers. Victor really wished they were though, so he could have his incredibly accepting parents. Chris' parents were so kind, they would often invite Victor over on Christmas Day. He was grateful that he wasn't completely alone on his birthday. Though he would often leave early as he didn't like to impose. His birthday for the last 8 years has really been himself, Makkachin, vodka and whichever terrible Christmas film that was on tv. 

 

The train came to a halt and victor shook his thoughts away, it was his stop. He eagerly walked out and began his journey towards his apartment complex, which was only ten minutes away. He couldn't wait to get out of his suit and into something a lot less attractive. He already started to piece together what he would wear. _Maybe those gross grey sweatpants I have. Oh and that silly tee shirt with the dog on it. Perfect._ He smiled to himself. 

 

As he approached Chris' apartment he sighed with relief. Knocking on the door, it quickly swung open. "Victor! Come in!" Chris said quickly. Victor smiled and handed him the pizzas. "Have these, I'm just going to quickly get changed." He gestured towards his apartment. "Okay, but hurry up because this bitch on TV just left her boyfriend for his brother, it's scandalous." They laughed together before Victor ran towards the stairs. 

 

He changed as quickly as he possibly could, injuries on his mind. Quickly, while grabbing some dog treats, he ran out. He swiftly locked his door and ran down the stairs, steadying his footing a few times as he winced at the pain in his legs. He opened Chris' door and saw him in the kitchen, plating up the food. "Hey, hot stuff." Chris joked, noting Victors gaudy outfit. He laughed but shrugged, his image the last thing on his mind right now. They both made their way to the sofa and victor tried to carefully sit next to a sleeping Makkachin. 

 

"So then, what happened last night?" Chris asked, taking a bite of pizza. "Well, I got mistaken for a drug dealer and got dragged to some kind of drug den." Chris' eyes widened, he choked slightly on his pizza. "Holy fuck, how can you be so calm?"  Victor shrugged and laughed, he always had a strange way of expressing his thoughts. "They beat me up pretty bad, but it was a misunderstanding, the _boss_ let me go." Victor said the last part quietly, letting it fall naturally from his lips. "Boss?" Chris asked, urging the man to explain further. "Yeah, the boss, he wasn't what you'd expect." 

 

Chris motioned his eyes for Victor to carry on. "He was, in simple terms, fucking gorgeous." Chris began to laugh hard, startling Victor and making Makkachin's ears perk slightly. "What, so you wanted to fuck the leader of a drug den?" Chris laughed louder, nudging Victor. He simply rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Chris, I’m serious, he was beautiful." 

 

Victor tried to remember the young mans face, wishing it was brighter last night. "He had such a sad look in his eye, but all of the guards shit theirselves around him." Chris perked an eyebrow. "They were intimidated by him?" He asked, sounding confused. Victor simply nodded. "Yeah, and he was about half their size in height and build." Victor began to piece more and more together in his mind. "Wow, at least you got some eye candy while being beaten up." Chris joked. Victor laughed too, but could feel his chest tighten. He felt sad thinking about _those_ eyes.  

 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the terrible reality tv program. “I’m glad you’re okay, though. I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone.” Chris admitted, breaking their silence. Victor perked his eyes in shock. “Chris?” Victor stated, rather than questioned. “You are an amazing friend.” Chris smiled, making Victor smile too. “Thank you, Chris. For always being there.” Chris chuckled slightly. “You’re always there for me too, you know?” They both laughed, feeling contentment creep within theirselves.

 

"H-Hey, can I tell you something?" Chris asked. Victor felt taken aback by such a serious question, he would rarely hear Chris talk this way. "Of course." Victor smiled warmly to his friend. "I've been seeing this guy, he's pretty quiet at first, but quickly came out of his shell. He’s a lot to look at too." Chris looked away from victor, almost nervous. "Wow, that's amazing Chris!" Victor hugged his best friend, trying to avoid the avalanche of pizza. "Yeah, I just didn't want you to worry in case I'm not here for any reason." Chris smiled. Victor nodded. "I'm really happy for you." Victor smiled genuinely as he squeezed his friends shoulder. “He’s pretty cute, he’s a manager in a florist. Have you ever heard anything so pure before?” Chris mused, his eyes sparkling with admiration. Victor felt his chest tighten slightly. He felt jealousy creep up behind him, but he would never dare to express it. Especially not to his best friend, whom he could easily trust with his life. Chris looked at Victor and his eyebrows furrowed. “Are you okay, Victor?”

 

_Damn, why does he always read me so well?_

 

Victor smiled, shaking off his thoughts. “I’m just a little sleepy, sorry.” Chris made a relieved sound and grinned. “I will invite Phichit soon, so you can meet him.” Victor felt his jealousy dilute slightly, replaced with near excitement. “I’d love that, he sounds super cute.” He said in a overdramatic, cutesy voice. They both laughed together before falling into comfortable silence again, finishing off the once towering pizza.

 

 

\-----

 

 

Victor yawned and decided he was way too tired to watch anymore of Chris' _interesting_ reality programs. "I'm going to call it a night, I didn't get much sleep." He explained. Chris smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I’m pretty tired, I didn’t get much sleep either." Chris winked suggestively. Victor rolled his eyes with a smile. "You're so vulgar." He laughed shaking his head. "Hey, I'm not the one that wants to fuck a drug dealer." Chris' joked. Victor laughed, but it didn't feel as genuine as before. He gathered Makkachin and his belongings and hugged his friend goodbye. "Come round tomorrow if you want?" Chris asked, smiling. "Sure! I'll be there!" 

 

Victor waved at his best friend before walking towards the stairs to his apartment. Makkachin was very sleepy so he struggled to walk. When they were finally inside, Makkachin walked directly to his expensive dog bed and curled up contently. Victor walked to the bathroom to prepare for bed, his shoulders hunched slightly. He stared into the mirror as he brushed his teeth, observing the nasty bruise on his face. 

 

_I'm never going to have a relationship looking like this._

 

He began to feel a tightness in his chest, he couldn't deny how jealous he had felt over Chris finding a partner. He sighed as he walked out to the bathroom. He dropped down into his too-large-for-one-person bed, not bothering with the covers. _Not even Makkachin wants to cuddle with me._ Victor pouting to himself, staring at the wall. He did admit to himself that he was just picking at anything, just to complain. 

 

It didn't take long for victor to fall asleep, holding a pillow against him. His eyes glistened from the tears he had been holding back. Sometimes his loneliness became too much to bare. 

 

 

\----

 

 

Morning soon came along and victor woke early, staring at the same wall he had embraced last night. "Good morning, Victor." He said to himself, satire behind his voice. He got up and walked to the bathroom and splashed his face with water, trying to filter out the intense thoughts from the night before. Victor would often struggle with days off work, unsure what to do with himself. He could go to Chris' but definitely not this early in the morning. He decided to go to the gym, rather than mope around his apartment. He walked to his bedroom to quickly change into his gym clothes and, making sure Makkachin was still asleep, he left. “I will be back soon, boy.”

 

The gym wasn't very busy, much to Victors enjoyment. He loved to be able to work out and exercise without being hindered by other people. He had a solid routine he followed, his body really being his only personal achievement. He truly believed that if he had no one to take care of, he'd take care of himself. He never over exercised or followed any ridiculous diet, he just did what he felt he needed for his body to feel good. Though, he quickly began to regret coming. His body ached from the events of the other night, his legs tense and stiff and his arms felt agonising. 

 

_I hate feeling so helpless._

 

Victor knew he was far from helpless, but began to feel embarrassed. He started to remember his anxiety attack from being beaten by the guards. He tried to piece together small details as to why he never fought back or spoken back. Thoughts began to circle his mind, spiralling out of control. He walked slowly to the gyms locker room, vision beginning to shake.

 

_Please, not again, not here._

 

Victor managed to walk to a cubicle in the locker room, though he wasn't sure how he got there. His body began to convulse and his mind felt numb. The words ‘weak’ and ‘helpless’ mixed together into a deadly concoction. Tears forced their way from his unwilling eyes. He bunched his hair in his hands, shaken. He didn’t know what to do other than wait for it to end, but it felt like it would continue forever. Victor shakily left the cubicle and bee lined towards the toilets. He was beyond grateful that no one was around him, but it wouldn’t of matter either way. He collapsed over one of the sinks and ran his hands under the tap.

 

_It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay._

 

Victor tried to pull himself together, like he often did. He threw cold water over his face and the impact made his body freeze in shock. He repeated the action four more times before he managed to look at himself in the mirror. He was deadly silent, his breathing was almost non existent. He just stared into his own eyes.

 

_I’m so alone._

 

He blinked at himself a few times. Quickly, he walked out of the toilets, as though nothing had happened. He would always swear to himself that it was the best way for him to handle anxiety attacks, but it was evident that it would only make things worse further down the line. Grabbing his items from the locker, he headed outside. He took his phone from a pocket inside of his gym bag and decided to call Chris. 

 

“Hey, Victor, you okay?” He asked in his usual cheery tone. “Yeah. Are you free today?” Victor rushed, catching Chris off guard. “Damn, sorry Victor, I may have a date today. It was pretty spontaneous and I felt on the spot.” Victor felt his heart sink. “O-oh, well that’s okay. Let me know how it goes.” He quickly hung up before Chris could reply and began to walk home. 

 

_I’m so so alone._

 

 

\-----

 

 

Victor slummed down onto his too-big-for-one-person sofa with exhaustion. The ache in his limbs had disappeared, faded out by the heavy pain in his chest. Makkachin jumped up next to him, climbing onto his lap and licking his face. “Aw, Makkachin, you make me so happy.” Victor admitted sadly. “I hope Chris has a good date. He deserves someone good.” Victor sunk further into the sofa, petting Makkachin softly. This was the most peaceful he had felt in a while. Though the peace didn’t last long as his phone began to buzz on the coffee table, the vibrations conflicting with the wood, making it sound louder than it should be. 

 

Victor groaned and picked up the phone, seeing it was his boss. He really wanted to be alone for the rest of the night. 

 

“Hello?”

 

“Ah, Victor thank goodness! Alice called in sick last minute and she had a meeting with a couple, looking to buy the Worthington Manor. You know how long we have waited to sell it. Please fill her place, I have complete faith in you.”

 

“O-oh, yeah that’s fine, sir. When is the meeting?”

 

“In about 50 minutes.”

 

Victor cursed to himself. He had always disliked how his boss would always expect the impossible from him. 

 

“Yes, that is fine, I will be there soon.” 

 

The next 20 minutes flew by as he rushed around his apartment, doing everything he could to look presentable. He admittedly felt sweaty and unhygienic after his anxiety attack earlier, though he quickly erased the thought, trying not to look back on it. He kissed Makkachin on the head and promised to be back soon, before grabbing his messenger bag and locking his apartment.

 

\-----

 

 

Victor quickly boarded the train, grateful for no delays. He felt his own self accomplishment as he noted that he was doing great time wise. He sat down onto one of the seats and stared out the window. Brick walls and buildings sped by between each stop. Most walls covered with graffiti. It may have been considered destructive, but Victor enjoyed seeing the random splashes of colour cover the miserable browns and greys cascading the town.

 

The train soon stopped at Victors destination and he hurriedly ran to his work place. He quickly waved at Clara, grabbing a clipboard his boss had prepared at the reception and ran to the waiting room. There was a young couple sat there, they were holding hands and giggling. 

 

“Hello, you must be Mr. and Mrs. Reid?” He extended his hand to them, but he was thrown off as they giggled loudly. “Not just yet, we are fiancés.” The woman explained loudly, they both looked at each other and kissed quickly. “R-right. So you are after the Worthington manor, correct?” His tone more cold than before. They both nodded, the man kissing his fiancé on the shoulder.  “Please follow me.”

 

 

\-----

 

 

The meeting felt like it went on for hours. Victor had never heard so many pet names before, and while he tried to pretend he felt disgusted, deep down, he knew he wanted to have someone in his own life that he could call ‘honey bun’ and ‘sweetie cake’. He had managed to sell the manor, making his boss jump up and down with happiness, offering Victor a pay bonus, though Victor wasn’t too bothered. Most money he earned, after bills, would be in his savings or spent on Makkachin. It also bothered him how his boss thought he could make everything right with money. Victor handed the clipboard to Clara quickly and walked out before she could ask him about his still bruised face. He just wanted to go home.

 

Victor waited a few minutes before his train pulled up at the station. It was rush hour and he had to stand, though he didn’t mind. The more exhausted he felt, the easier he could fall asleep, without having to think about the events of the day. 

 

The train made it’s usual course, stopping at a station every now and then. Victor staring back at the graffiti covered walls. The sun was beginning to set and it left a gentle orange glow behind the overcast clouds, making Victor relax his mind. The train halted at the next station. 

 

Something suddenly pulled Victor out of his relaxed state. He saw blue. A blue coat. It seemed to look familiar. 

 

 _They_ seemed to look familiar. 

 

_No way._

The train doors began to ring, indicating that they were closing. Victor wasn’t sure what happened next. His mind blurred as he pressed the button on the door, making them spring open quickly. He hurriedly rushed off the train onto the platform; which he had never had to stop at before, and looked around frantically.

 

_Was it my imagination?_

 

He paced around the station, the effects of rush hour taking it’s toll as pools of people obstructed his vision, pushing into him, but Victor paid no attention to it. Panic began to dig deep into his veins, hopeful that it wasn’t a dream, wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him. Victors anxiousness paused for less than a second. His eyes caught eye of what he was looking for. He finally saw that familiar blue again. 

 

_It can't be._

 

Victor walked towards the blue, it was hypnotising and Victor was drawn in. He was like a moth to a flame, his legs pulling towards the figure uncontrollably. Victor wasn’t sure how long he had been holding his breathe. 

 

_There’s no way it’s-_

 

Victor stopped in his tracks, his legs couldn’t move anymore. He was frozen to the ground. The person turned around, wide eyed and Victor felt his heart leap into his throat. What he thought he saw was true. _Who_ he thought he saw.

 

Black hair, soft like spun cotton. 

Skin, shimmering like fine sugar. 

Eyes, deep brown like the most indulgent chocolate. 

Lips, innocently pink, like a desert rose waiting to be picked. 

 

 

And a watch that looked like it could pay for Victors car loan ten fold.


End file.
